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No one throws a wedding like the British

On the middle lane of Piccadilly Place, Jessica Ferriman and her friends sat on a Union Jack, drank champagne, and dined on olives and sausage.

Spectators wait for the arrival of Prince William and Catherine Middleton along the procession route near Westminster Abbey for the Royal Wedding on April 29, 2011 in London, England. (Sean Gallup / Getty Images)

By Katie DaubsStaff Reporter

Fri., April 29, 2011

LONDON—On the middle lane of Piccadilly Place, Jessica Ferriman and her friends sat on a Union Jack, drank champagne, and dined on olives and sausage.

Wills and Kate had just wed, and revellers were making their way out of Green Park.

“Not the best place to have a picnic” a driver shouted as he inched past.

“We shall not be moved,” replied Trevor Morriss, also sipping on champagne.

When it came to the royal wedding, the Windsors took care of the pageantry and glamour. The whimsy, hijinks, and reverence came courtesy of the common folk who enjoyed a day off from the normal rules of society.

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The group of Brits picnicking on Piccadilly had been drinking champagne since Middleton walked into Westminster Abbey. As they sat on the street, people yelled “good for you” and popped by for a cupcake.

“Do you have any olives,” a smiling cabbie yelled.

“Yes, and sausages as well,” said Kate Green, handing off the food.

They had been watching the service at Trafalgar Square but decided to throw their own street party on one of London’s busiest streets.

Then buses of police drove by, almost grazing the homemade rum Corgi-decorated cupcakes.

“Come on, we’ve had our fun,” said Morriss, a trifle worried he might be arrested.

An officer issued a stern warning. Then he accepted an olive.

“We’re going to be kettled,” Morriss said.

“Come on Trevor, how often do you sit in the street?” Green said.

The police, street cleaners, and crowd control officials were in fine spirits for the royal wedding, joking and laughing with the crowd, estimated at one million.

Craig Buttery was picking up the ever-mounting garbage the moment the celebrations began.

He pulled out the can of Foster’s. Among the trash on the ground, champagne was the drink of choice, followed by beer, wine and gin.

Early on, people were sneaking the hooch. By 9 a.m. nobody cared.

Anna Stover, from Georgia, gave manicures to friends as she sipped bubbly.

“I was expecting to be a bridesmaid, and I didn’t have time to get a manicure, so I’m doing one myself as I wait,” she explained. She did a remarkable job, especially considering the booze and dusty conditions.

Many of the people with the best spots had camped out overnight to get them. By 6:30 a.m., all the front row space along the mall had been taken. People climbed everywhere — on bikes, portable toilets, each other — just to get a good look.

By 10, everyone near Clarence House was on tiptoes to get a glimpse of Prince William — now officially the Duke of Cambridge. Prior to that, various royals would pop out to the balcony for a wave to the people on the mall. A few receding hairlines caused a stir when people thought it might be Prince Andrew or the groom himself. No one could really tell, so it was likely a butler having his big moment.

The Brits were the best prepared for spotting this sort of thing. One family brought buckets decorated with Will and Kate flags to stand on.

“For the next celebration we’ll just change the trimming,” said Janet Sanders, from Wellingborough.

Yuki Hoshino, from Japan, stood with a free periscope, one of the many products brand-conscious companies gave out (Burger King was trading off on their royal connection with paper crowns). “Not great,” Hoshino said of the view.

Petite Beryl Smith, a 77-year-old Brit draped in a flag of the couple’s faces, was at the back of the mall. She waved her flags gingerly, like a conductor of an orchestra.

“I’m very small,” she said as she looked through a periscope. “You can see the top of things as they go along.”

An hour later, Smith climbed onto a stranger’s back for a view.

“I might not live to see another royal wedding,” she said. “It’s now or never.”

During the service, the crowd was calm as people listened to the audio and cheered and sang along to their favourite parts. Many took a break for a meat pie and beer. The lucky people who chose to use the portable toilets during the service were treated to the majestic strains of “Jerusalem” and “God Save the Queen.”

Scott had a giant inflatable kangaroo named after the best man. She would hold it in the air whenever the crowds got excited — usually every 30 seconds.

“Isn’t he gorgeous?” she said

Gorgeous got thrown around a lot. Inflatable animals, the flower girls, the bride.

“She was just gorgeous, wasn’t she?” said Kitty Milne, from Scotland. “During the vows, I was cryin’.”

And Prince William — “he was glowing,” Scott said.

At London’s parks, gigantic television screens broadcast the wedding and the crowds cheered for the kiss.

Michael Jordan, a Torontonian standing near the back, mused “no one does it like the British.”

Jordan’s wife called with updates from her plum spot across from the abbey. Jacqueline Jordan had to sleep over night with a friend to get so close. Her husband chose to sleep in a bed. She’s a monarchist, he’s a monarchist “supporter,” one of several husbands floating around with this title throughout the week.

After the wedding, Paul Strobel, a German who celebrated his 21st birthday on the mall, offered shots to everyone around him.

“See, there’s just this unity,” said Toronto’s Anne Marie Horne, as Strobel raised the lid in a toast.

And that’s because everyone loves a wedding. The child lying face down near the portable toilets, the police officers answering questions about Prince William’s last name, and the impromptu picnickers on Piccadilly.

You can call it over the top, ridiculous or a waste of resources, but the people at the mall just call it a bloody riot.

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